


Parenthood: Desired

by Miratete



Category: Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers Generation One
Genre: M/M, Mech Preg, One Night Stand, Size Difference, hidden pregnancy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-16
Updated: 2018-03-16
Packaged: 2019-04-01 01:40:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,587
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13987764
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Miratete/pseuds/Miratete
Summary: Omega Supreme's behavior has been a bit odd of late, but he has a very good reason for it.





	Parenthood: Desired

Joe TwoCoyotes felt the approach of the giant long before seeing or hearing him. The ground shook in even and ever-strengthening pulses as the huge Autobot neared. And when the vibrations got to the point where his coffee slopped over the rim of its mug, he went outside to welcome the behemoth. 

It was a strange existence, living on the border that divided the Warm Springs Reservation from the Autobot Reservation. A tatty strip of asphalt separated land that had belonged to his people for perhaps eight thousand years from land that had belonged to the extra-terrestrials for some four million years. At least that was how the government saw it. Living next door to the Autobots meant sports cars and firetrucks and robotic dinosaurs whizzing past at all hours of the day.

And then there was this guy...

Joe tilted his head back to where he could just see the head of the giant, supposedly the largest Autobot on Earth. Though he'd been told there were bigger ones that had yet to visit.

The giant crouched, the face behind the glass bubble smiling at him. “Friend: greetings,” boomed the deep voice.

"Hey, Omega! Hungry?”

“Gift: appreciated.”

Joe laughed. It had been a strange day the giant had first found his junkyard. With awestruck terror and amazement he'd watched as Omega Supreme had picked up the battered chassis of an '88 Buick and studied it for some time. Trembling and lost, he'd told the massive machine that he could have it.

The giant had looked down at him with a quizzical expression. “Query: a gift?”

“Sure! Yes! A gift! Do whatever you want with it,” he'd said in a flabbergasted tone. What else do you tell a 200ft tall robot that's handling your property?

The massive face behind its glass bubble had smiled. “Gift: appreciated,” came the response. And then the giant had torn a fender off of the Buick and placed it into a hatch in his side. Over the next half hour the strange visitor tore the car into several pieces and placed them into the hatch as Joe had continued to watch.

And now Omega Supreme looked out over the junkyard and spotted a car with a large red X spray-painted upon the roof. “Gift: located,” he said with a smile. Carefully reaching over the line of telephone wires that ran along the highway, the giant plucked up the designated car, sat down, and began his process of eating it. At least Joe figured he was eating it. He tore it into manageable pieces and inserted them into a mouth of sorts. He didn't understand much about the aliens next door and their processes. Thinking about them too deeply gave him a headache. It was so much easier to take them lightly rather than to think about how they kept themselves alive and if they had souls and where did new aliens come from and how ungraspably ancient they were. 

He'd met a few Autobots casually since their awakening twelve years ago. Omega Supreme was the only one he considered a friend. The giant visited about once a week after his first appearance, coming by and saying hello. Sometimes he'd kindly lift a new wreck into the yard. Other times he just liked to sit and listen to Joe tell stories about fishing and working and the tough times he'd seen.

But the past month had been different. The giant came by every other day and consumed a car, first taking all the old wrecks out of the ravine behind the lot—vehicles that had been there since the 50's and 60's. After he'd run out of them, Joe had given him one out of the yard each visit. It wasn't like they were making any money for him anyway, and it cleared a little room for newer wrecks that still had some salvageable parts on them.

“Would you like another?” Joe offered, trying to be hospitable.

“Needs: satisfied. Offer: unnecessary.” The giant Autobot smiled at him and stretched out his hand—at least what passed for a hand. “Gift: appreciated. Joe TwoCoyotes: generous,” he said as the tiny human touched him.

-o-o-o-o-o-

“Look, Optimus. It's not so much that we mind donating a little electricity to your cause,” said the human in the suit. “It's just that he's cut two lines in the past week and the repair costs and disruptions to the power grid are costing us into the hundreds of thousands of dollars.”

There were gasps from all around. “I see. This is news to us as well, you understand?” responded Optimus Prime diplomatically. Until now, no one had given much thought to the high-tension power lines running across the area. The lines had been there when they'd woken and were a usually disregarded feature of the landscape. Human stuff. Don't mess with the human stuff if you don't need to.

“I do.”

“I'm pretty sure Omega Supreme does not realize the consequences of his actions regarding what he's done. I'll talk to him and let him know what's going on. And we will do what it takes to assist with repairs and prevent further damage.”

“Thank you. Your cooperation is most appreciated.”

“Well obviously Omega's not getting the energon he needs and has been taking it,” interjected Ratchet suddenly, who until now had been deep in thought.

“Well if he wants the power, suppose we just install some sort of big outlet out there so he could plug into it? We'll pay for whatever he uses,” added Jazz, who seemed to understand the humans better than any of the other Autobots.

“As in becoming customers?” asked the man in the suit.

“Well, the Autobots have been able to generate what they need to supply themselves through geothermal energy and the new solar array, but suddenly it seems as if it might not be quite enough,” explained Sparkplug.

“And forgive me, but paying?”

“We have money from various sources. We should be able to afford it,” Jazz enlightened the representative with a little bit of a smirk. Some of it was government support to their 'reservation.' Some of it was from odd jobs. Most of it these days came from product endorsement—just last week the twins had signed a lucrative contract with Hankook. He himself had become a posterchild for Porsche in the Asian market.

“Well, I suppose it would be a solution, and would be a lot better than having to deal with more damage to our equipment.”

Optimus Prime turned to Smokescreen. “Smokescreen, meet with their people and make any arrangements necessary. Jazz, you're with me. I'm going to talk to him about this now.”

“Prime, I'd like to come too, said Ratchet. “I'd like to check over Omega Supreme while you talk to him about this. There must be some reason he's been siphoning power. I'd hate to think it might be some medical need or malfunction that we've missed.”

The Autobot leader nodded. “Understood.” And then he gave the command to roll out.

-o-o-o-o-o-

“Omega Supreme: carrying.”

Ratchet's jaw dropped open.

“What are you carrying, Omega?” asked Optimus.

Ratchet's palm slapped against his face. All right. Maybe it wasn't such a stupid question. Omega did haul a lot of cargo and quite a few passengers from place to place. But in the circumstances—the theft of power from the high-tension lines and the hearsay that Omega Supreme had been consuming a lot of scrap metal—it should have been obvious.

The big mech scowled, having also thought it a stupid question, but then smiled beatifically. “Sparkling: conceived.”

“He's pregnant?” asked Sparkplug.

“Apparently. And he knew before we did,” answered Ratchet. Well that explained a few things about Omega Supreme's behavior of late.

“A mech that big can get pregnant?”asked Sparkplug. He had a good concept of the reproductive methods and capabilities of the Cybertronians. Hound and Mirage had proved that the old ways were still viable when Hound had popped out a little one just a couple of years ago. That odd little bit of anatomy that he sometimes came across while helping with repairs, the one that looked like a headless armadillo, suddenly had made a lot of sense.

“We're all capable regardless of size,” explained Bumblebee.

Ratchet finished fiddling with the settings on his scanner and immediately aimed it back toward the giant. It beeped not long afterward and Ratchet set his shoulders. “All right, Omega. I'm going in for a look. Make this easy for me, all right?”

“Cooperation: given,” came the voice, and Omega Supreme transformed into his planetside components.

Ratchet focused on the rocket gantry area for a moment with the scanner before it beeped again. Then he marched straight toward it and found a hatch opening for him at the side.

“So, Omega, care to tell us who the sire is? As far as we know you've not been involved with anyone,” said Optimus, laying a fatherly hand upon the patrol-tank in front of him.

“Return journey of Titan mission: long. Occupants: frisky.”

Jazz suddenly gasped and sputtered and looked away.

Sparkplug stared at Jazz and tried to remember what he'd heard of the mission to Titan.

“Frisky? Who was on that mission?” Optimus asked, and then he realized Jazz's sudden embarrassment. “Jazz?”

Jazz was looking extremely uncomfortable. “Ah, a year and a half ago. The time Cosmos was shot down onto one of Saturn's moons. Omega Supreme took Perceptor and I there to rescue him.”

“And things got 'frisky' on the way home?” Optimus glared at his lieutenant. Jazz and Perceptor were a long-time couple, something of an 'opposites attract' relationship, but even so the time and place for involvement would have been inappropriate to say the least.

“Well yes, but I didn't think that... well...” It wasn't often that Jazz was seen fumbling like this.

“Omega, so Jazz got you sparked?” Bumblebee asked.

“Sires: Jazz and Perceptor,” was the happy sounding answer, an answer followed by a happy sounding sigh that set all of his components to shuddering. He'd been considering the possibility a while before this had happened. Thoughts of courting Optimus or the Aerialbots, or perhaps seducing one of the Decepticon combiner teams, had gone through his processors plenty of times. When the possibility of Metroplex coming to Earth as a core for a city had risen, he'd been secretly thrilled. A city-former would be more than able and probably quite willing to sire a child for him in the interests of defense. But on that long return home to Earth after freeing the inhabitants of Titan from the Decepticons everything had suddenly fallen into place. He was fully fueled and in good repair, two of his three passengers were known berthmates, and one of those two was a known sexual adventurer. With the casual offer to “include him in,” he'd thrown his doors—and his spark chamber—wide open to the possibility.

“Oh for the love of Primus,” moaned Ratchet. “Omega! You let both of them into your spark chamber when they were at it? Didn't you realize what could happen!?”

“Omega Supreme: aware. Parenthood: desired.”

For a while everyone stood about awkwardly, and then Optimus glared again at Jazz.

Jazz shrugged. “We were just being social and letting him in on a little spark-touching. I didn't realize he was going to let himself get knocked up.”

“Omega, do you even realize the resources it takes to build a mech your size?” Ratchet groused.

“Earth: researched. Resources: plentiful. Timing: suitable.”

“But why, Omega?” asked Bumblebee. “You don't have a bondmate or even someone to help you raise a sparkling.

The giant sighed this time. “Omega Guardians: extinct but one. Omega Supreme: alone. Autobots: trusted. Opportunity: awaited.”

Another silence, this one poignant. The big guy was right. He was alone—the last of his kind as far as they knew.

“Well Jazz? Want to see your baby?” asked Ratchet, breaking the moment of cogitation.

“I suppose I should.”

The three other Autobots and Sparkplug entered the gantry structure and found where Ratchet had opened up several decking plates and the gestation chamber beneath them as well.

“Oh wow!” gasped Bumblebee, staring down at the protoform, a disjointed mech-shaped mass of parts and cables lying in a cloudy soup of oil, nanites, transfluid, and raw materials. “He's bigger than I am already!”

“He's bigger than Ratchet,” stated Sparkplug.

“And he'll get a lot bigger before the gestation phase ends. At a year and half... let's see. He's about a month into the 'building phase' as we call it. Explains the cars and the power drain.” Ratchet looked about the corridor that ran through the structure. “I expect he'll nearly fill this room by birthing time.”

“We're going to need a really big cradle for this guy,” joked Sparkplug.

Jazz suddenly giggled uncharacteristically and pointed. “He's got my faceplate, and Percy's optics.”

“Hopefully he's got someone else's sensibilities,” snarked Ratchet.

“Designation: Omega Terra,” said Omega Supreme proudly.

“That's an excellent name,” answered Optimus, the whole concept of Omega Supreme's pregnancy settling on him. The Prime had been thrilled when Hound had given birth to Chaser, and had even asked to be included on the babysitting roster.

“Thank you,” said Omega Supreme simply.

“I still find this amazing that you guys can have babies pretty much like we do,” said Sparkplug, studying the contents of the chamber.

“All right, everyone. That's enough gawking,” said Ratchet, reaching for one of the panels of the chamber. “Take a few video captures and I'm going to close him up again. “Then I'm going to comm' Perceptor. If he co-sired, intentionally or not, he should know too.”

“He should,” said Jazz, smiling down wistfully at the enormous sparkling-to-be in the tank. It had been a long time since he'd fathered a child.

As the others headed back to the Ark, Jazz lingered, Omega Supreme transforming and looking down at one of his child's two sires. The spark energy required to kindle a sparkling of his sort needed two or three regular-sized mechs to provide it in a mutual overload. Without a suitable mate, the right conditions were not easily achieved on the fly, but somehow they had made it happen. “Omega Terra. I think Percy'll like that name,” mused Jazz.

Omega Supreme extended his hand and Jazz climbed into it, and the great guardian lifted the officer up to optic level. “Omega Supreme: ashamed. Jazz: taken advantage of. Perceptor: used.” Not only had he taken advantage of the situation, he'd kept everyone else in the dark for more than a year.

Jazz smiled lopsidedly. “It's all good, my man. We were being a bit careless there when I invited you in on the fun. I just thought maybe you'd like a little love as well.”

Omega Supreme's expression went from apologetic to pleased. “Opportunity: awaited. Invitation: unexpected. Results: desired.”

“And while I'm kinda shocked you let it go this way, I'm glad it happened,” he continued.

The huge face behind its bubble looked surprised. “Parenthood: desired?”

“Apparently so,” answered Jazz. “Even if our bitlet's going to be way bigger than his daddies.”

The bubble of transparent metal protecting Omega Supreme's head rolled open and the giant brought Jazz in close, pressing their faceplates together affectionately.

Jazz embraced Omega Supreme's head, as big as he was in his alt-mode. And then he kissed the giant's forehead. “Parenthood unexpectedly desired,” purred the black and white mech.

-o-  
-o-o-o-  
-o-o-o-o-o-

The End

-o-o-o-o-o-  
-o-o-o-  
-o-

**Author's Note:**

> Warm Springs Reservation – This is a real place in north-central Oregon, about where I imagine the Autobot Ark to be located. And I imagine that the Autobots at some point would have gotten themselves classified as “indigenous peoples” in order to gain some control over their land they occupy. How else could they build Autobot City upon it? I had a good giggle when some other author (of an original work rather than a fanfic) mentioned the same place in one of his chapters. Must be the 'go to' reservation when you need somewhere obscure.
> 
> Why specifically an '88 Buick? - A little shout out to Thomas “She Blinded Me with Science” Dolby's 1988 album “Aliens Ate My Buick.”
> 
> “He didn't understand much about the aliens next door” - This whole train of thought is a summary of my take on the canon and fanon that's built up around the Transformers. Most complicated. Fanon. Ever. Way too deep. Way too difficult to grasp completely. I still love it. I love to play with it. Read my story “Wayward Lessons” for a perfect example of my playing with the fanon.
> 
> Jazz/Perceptor – The author stumbled into some adorable fanart of this pairing one day. Was hooked. Definitely an opposites attract relationship though. The 'facing's probably amazing. Perceptor's probably a closet sex god.
> 
> The Invitation – Even Jazz knows that Omega Supreme doesn't get enough love.
> 
> The Prompt I filled (sort of): REQ: G1, any/Omega Supreme (they only thought he wasn't interested) 2013-01-20 02:31 am (UTC)  
> In some peaceful post-war era when there's plenty of energy for everyone, Omega suddenly finds himself off starvation rations for the first time in what feels like ever. All the Autobots are used to him being quiet and self-contained and not really being into interfacing. They didn't realize he just didn't have the energy to spare. Now he does, and is seriously pent up and definitely on the prowl. Go ahead and make that pun literal, any means any and orgies are welcome. As are all forms of interfacing, though it seems like sticky would present some obstacles.


End file.
